


The Way

by mscharlottebell



Category: EXO (Band), Kpop - Fandom
Genre: Angst, EXO - Freeform, KaiSoo - Freeform, M/M, kpop, soulmate!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscharlottebell/pseuds/mscharlottebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't supposed to be like this. Jongin and Kyungsoo are in love, but it isn't Jongin's name that appears on Kyungsoo's skin that morning.</p><p>{TW for deep angst, substance abuse, barebacking}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinistrocular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistrocular/gifts).



> HI THEEEERE, welcome to my first ever solo kaisoo piece :) There's a lot of sad stuff going on here so please take care of yourself! If you think it deserves a sequel, please let me know in the comments!
> 
> This is dedicated to my dearest sinistrocular--thank you for your patience, your love, and for being an inspiration!

it's not supposed to be like this.

Jongin knows that they are living on borrowed time. He remembers every time he looks at Kyungsoo, sees the smouldering of want in his eyes and gives in because his knees can't stop trembling. He shuts his eyes against it most nights, keeps them closed tight so it hurts less but he feels more. But there are other nights, other days or afternoons when Kyungsoo's hand will land in the small of his back and he just knows that he'll have to watch.

He'll have to watch, because soon he won't get to--soon, Kyungsoo will find the person that matches the name printed on his collarbone, and he won't love Jongin the same way ever again. Perhaps he already doesn't.

Jongin is thinking about this when Zitao knocks him playfully on the back of his head, a coy little smile playing around the corners of his lips.

"What was that for?" He gripes, smoothing down the stray pink strands.

"You weren't paying attention to me," Tao chides, fluttering his lashes. Jongin struggles not to roll his eyes, but his smile can't be helped.

"You're so high maintenance, Tao," He teases, swatting his friend's thigh. "How does Wufan keep up with you?"

Zitao's grin turns wicked, and Jongin doesn't miss the gleam in his eye.

"Oh, he has...methods." He says mysteriously, and Jongin laughs it off but he honestly doesn't want to know.

"That sounds disgusting." Jongin glances over at Hongbin, who is settled on Wonshik's lap with a book in his hands. Wonshik is screwing around with his phone, his earbuds in and his arms awkwardly encircled around Hongbin's middle. It looks painful, but Wonshik doesn't seem to mind.

(that's what it should be like, Jongin thinks-he should be growing around Kyungsoo, and they already move around like one is the center of the other's gravity-so why couldn't it be me?)

"No more disgusting than you laying all over poor wonshikkie," Tao fires back, and Hongbin raises a smug eyebrow at him.

"You're just mad because your soulmate is older than you and you can't sit on his lap to make school less horrifically boring." He says sweetly.

Tao is getting ready to say something that Jongin is sure is extremely witty and highly inappropriate, but something about his mention of their age gap makes Jongin feel suddenly adrift and conflicted and it's like Zitao can smell his distress.

He turns to Jongin just as Hongbin turns back to Wonshik.

"Really though, are you alright?"

Jongin forces a smile down at his notebook as the teacher at the front of the lecture hall clears his throat and their classmates reluctantly settle into their desks.

"I'm okay, Tao." He lies, and it sounds light, breezy. He wishes he couldn't feel Tao's eyes piercing right through him, wishes he could curl in on himself and learn to let go--forget about Kyungsoo, forget about their mistake. But he can't. He wouldn't, he doesn't think, even if he were given a choice.

When class is over, he scurries out of the hall and into his apartment without saying a word to his friends, and skips the rest of his classes in favor of lying in the fetal position on his bed, too empty to cry but just desperate enough to send a text message to Kyungsoo.

~

It's an unspoken social taboo to love someone before you know your soulmate's name.

It appears anywhere at any time after the age of sixteen, varying from person to person. The script, the name, the location--all dependent on the individuals who will, someday, become lovers. It's the way things have always been, and the way they would always be, as far as Jongin could grasp. Soulmates were always going to find each other, always going to love each other, and their name would only ever fade when they passed away. There was no changing it, once it happened.

A lot of people think it's rubbish, think it's more exciting to have the experience before you find your soulmate and feel the connection between the two of you. Some people think having felt the touch of other people makes the sex, the act of uniting, more intimate when you find your soulmate. Jongin thinks a lot about this, and for a while, he was patient, thinking that maybe he was just a late bloomer.

But when Kyungsoo called him hysterically crying one morning just after his twentieth birthday, he starts to think about it a little differently.

~

Jongin is fourteen when he meets Do Kyungsoo, wide-eyed with beautifully tanned skin and pillowy lips that make his heart jump. He's fourteen and a half when he confesses, which seems silly, since Kyungsoo is a year older than him and twice as good-looking.  
  
Kyungsoo peers over at Jongin, the dancer that lives next door, and doesn't say yes-but he also doesn't say no. What he does do is move to stand in front of him-braces his hands on either side of Jongin's head, tilts his mouth, and kisses him full on the lips.  
  
It's awkward and wet and horrifically embarrassing to think about now, but the important part is that they felt something with one another-a little spark, and it was something that they mutually agreed to nurse into a flame.  
  
Jongin is almost sixteen the first time they have sex, Kyungsoo having just turned seventeen. It's the day between their birthdays, and Jongin is on his back with his naked thighs spread, his breaths desperate and sweet.  
  
"Fuck me, please," he begs, his back arching to try and reach Kyungsoo, who hovers uncertainly between his legs.  
  
"Jongin," he starts, and he sounds reluctant.  
  
Jongin persuades him with his lips, his fingers threading through Kyungsoo's red hair. Jongin's favorite color-Kyungsoo had left the salon with a smug grin and Jongin limped along behind, trying to ignore the semi in his skinny jeans.  
  
"It will be you." Jongin breathes against Kyungsoo's ear as he presses up against him, surprised at his own confidence. "When it comes, it will be you. There's no one else for me."  
  
To his surprise, Kyungsoo responds with a needy sigh, his soft lips attaching to Jongin's neck.  
  
"Thank you," he mutters, pausing to stare down with such tender love and affection that Jongin feels that spark shoot like fire down his spine. "I knew it was going to be you. I always knew...It will always be you. You're going to be my soulmate. I know it."  
  
Kyungsoo works him open gently, but knows how to press and where to move-when to pull back and which way to curl his fingers. He plays Jongin's body like an instrument, like he's known it all his life and it was made just for him. He is thoughtful but powerful, bringing Jongin to the edge multiple times before easing off and letting him relax. When he finally comes, breathless and uttering Jongin's name repeatedly, Jongin is mewling helplessly, his stomach sticky with his own come.  
  
Every time they come together feels like the first time. Jongin never questions himself after that. He chooses to believe that Kyungsoo is his soulmate and his body is just slow to respond.  
  
~

After the phone call, Jongin goes sprinting to Kyungsoo's apartment. 

"Jongin," Kyungsoo sobs as he comes ripping through the front door, thankful that he lives on his own now. "Jongin, please."  
  
Jongin doesn't know what to do when Kyungsoo throws himself into Jongin's arms, wet lips and heavy sighs, begging for Jongin to take him, now, now, god dammit, Jongin.  
  
It takes a minute for Jongin adjust, his fingers working slowly in and out of Kyungsoo's body while the other is on his hands and knees, moaning, still crying but not letting Jongin stop for love nor money. He won't let Jongin see his face. It makes Jongin's stomach hurt.  
  
When he pushes his cock in, Kyungsoo's teary whimpers turn into loud moans and he ruts back. He's beautiful like this, his back bowed and his head tipped to the side, his fingers curling into the sheets of his bed as he begs Jongin to touch him, hold him, please, don't let go, don't stop. Jongin wraps an arm possessively around his waist, his chest rubbing against Kyungsoo's back with every snap of his hips, his teeth digging little red marks on Kyungsoo's shoulders.  
  
Kyungsoo's body melts up against his, and the sounds of their sharp little cries are like a symphony and Jongin feels so drunk with love, with concern and fear and the need to just hold Kyungsoo. He reaches around, a few quick hard tugs to Kyungsoo's neglected cock, and he knows he can't go much longer.  
  
"Soo, baby," he whispers, his lip caught between his teeth as he tries to pull out but Kyungsoo's hand shoots out to grab him, pull him closer. "Baby, I'm gonna come."  
  
"Come in me, please, please," Kyungsoo says, and that's it--Jongin doesn't stand a chance and his hips stutter as one hand still works over Kyungsoo's cock, the other fisted in the sheets as his lover goes rigid beneath him, breath caught around a sharp, short little cry that Jongin swears is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard.  
  
"Why," he breathes, delirious as he breathlessly presses his chest into Kyungsoo's back once they are side by side. With a grunt, he pulls out, panting against Kyungsoo's hair. "You never liked that before, what's--"  
  
He never finishes his sentence because Kyungsoo turns around, his eyes leaking fresh tears, and the cute, swirled letters under his left collarbone are the most revolting, hurtful things he's ever seen.  
  
"Jongin." Kyungsoo cries, desperately gripping at Jongin's shoulders, his arms, anything. "Please don't leave me."  
  
Jongin doesn't say anything. He can't. All he can think to do is pull Kyungsoo closer, hold him tighter, because he is not Chanyeol, and now he knows that everything he has ever believed is a lie.  
  
They are living on borrowed time.  
  
It's not supposed to be like this.  
  
~  
  
He thinks about that day when he's lying on his bed after skipping the rest of his classes-wonders how much time they have left, and his heart hurts because he knows Kyungsoo is going to love someone else soon. Jongin stares helplessly, miserably at the screen of his cell phone, always dreading watching one minute tick into the next one.  
  
Kyungsoo always picks up the phone when Jongin calls, or sends him a message explaining why he can't. Jongin used to think, with a shy little smile, that it was because they were meant to be together; that one could sense the other's distress, and it soothed him when he was upset.  
  
He isn't sure if he believes that anymore, exactly. He has resigned himself to being convinced that it's because Kyungsoo is a wonderful, thoughtful...friend.  
  
He wants to choke on that word. He wants to choke and never breathe and finally escape from this hell. Maybe burning alive in the pits of hell will hurt less than this.  
  
But it's divine, much to Jongin's dismay. Kyungsoo lets himself into the apartment and wastes no time before he's hovering over Jongin with predatory, loving eyes, sucking here, touching there, playing Jongin's body like the familiar keys of a piano until he's breathless, panting, begging.  
  
"I love you," he whispers. "Please..."  
  
Kyungsoo has him spread across the blankets, his hands fisted in the blankets on either side of Jongin's head and Jongin is struggling to breathe with the delicate curl of black letters under Kyungsoo's collarbone rupturing his heart a little deeper with every thrust of Kyungsoo's cock.  
  
They don't use condoms anymore. It's probably gross and Jongin doesn't tell anyone because he thinks they will just judge him for it, but he doesn't want to waste the time he has with Kyungsoo being cautious. They've only ever had each other, up until last year when Chanyeol literally ruined their lives. He savors the feeling of Kyungsoo inside him, craves the sticky mess when he pulls out and drags Jongin into the shower to clean them both off before he brings them both to Jongin's bed. It feels like a claim, he thinks, running his hands through Kyungsoo's newly-black hair, and since it's not his name on Kyungsoo's collar, he selfishly wants to keep as much of him for himself as he can.  
  
~  
  
It happens too soon. He always knew it would. The worst part is that Jongin already knows it's happened before Kyungsoo says a single word.  
  
He is twenty one, Kyungsoo is twenty two, and they are living in the same city but in separate apartments because, despite Kyungsoo's insistence, Jongin knows he will not be loved by Kyungsoo forever. At least, not the way he wants to be loved.  
  
He ends up being glad for it, because Kyungsoo has been restless for two weeks, has been shy about holding Jongin's hand and quick to defend himself when Jongin teases. There is a space starting to grow between them, and Jongin is helpless to stop it because he knows it means that Chanyeol is nearby: they're all typical symptoms. He hates the sadness in Kyungsoo's eyes, hates the sympathy he finds there even more.  
  
His first hint that tonight is, in fact, the night he loses it all, is when Kyungsoo sends him a text message instead of calling him. He asks if Jongin would be willing to meet him at the auditorium in the music building he works at. Jongin finally acknowledges the nagging in the corner of his mind that tells him this is it, he's finally met Chanyeol and it's time for Jongin to pretend to be fine without Kyungsoo.  
  
He's right.  
  
He can see it in the pleading look Kyungsoo gives him when he enters the auditorium and sits down in the first row, his stomach an impossible curl of tight knots. Kyungsoo is sitting at the piano on the stage, and he waits until Jongin is comfortable and unmoving, patient before he starts the song.  
  
Jongin listens to the words, but he's carried away by the melody, by the sound of Kyungsoo crooning his heartbreak and hope so sweetly that it almost doesn't feel like his heart is breaking.  
  
Almost.  
  
With every press and swell of the music, Jongin feels more and more abandoned, but he realizes with each tear that slides hot and shameful down his face that he has to take this as it is because Kyungsoo was never his to lose. Part of him wants to hear that song for the rest of his life, and part of him never, ever wants to hear it again.  
  
When it's over, he still hasn't decided what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. He rises unsteadily to his feet, too ashamed of his hatred and hurt to wish Kyungsoo well right away. Jongin can't even look in his eyes-he can't stand to look, really, because he knows Kyungsoo isn't crying. Kyungsoo has hope, and he has the name of someone who will love him unconditionally written into the olive skin beneath his collarbone. Jongin has nothing, has never had anything, and feels like maybe his whole life has been some cosmic joke.  
  
"I hope," Jongin starts, but he chokes on a sob and has to start over with a hasty sniffle and a quick wipe of his eyes. He sees Kyungsoo twitch, making to step off the stage and move closer. Jongin holds up a hand, looking down into the plush red carpet at his feet, and shakes his head. Kyungsoo goes absolutely still, his imossibly round eyes wide in his beautiful face. "I hope he loves you as much as I do, Kyungsoo. I hope he treats you well." Jongin manages to say, his voice like gravel.  
  
He hiccups, he hates Chanyeol so much, he hates his stupid, betraying heart and he hates that he can't hate Kyungsoo because it's not his fault. It's just the way the world is, the way fate and destiny work. You get a name, and you're powerless to change it.  
  
Jongin walks slowly out of the auditorium without hearing a single word from Kyungsoo, and without uttering another word himself.  
  
When the door closes, Chanyeol steps out from behind the stage curtain and pulls Kyungsoo into his arms, his face warped by his very obvious distress as Kyungsoo weeps silently against his chest. He falls into his arms like he was meant to be there, and when he crumples to the floor, Chanyeol is there to catch him. 

Jongin falls into bed alone, beats bruises against his legs and hits the wall so hard his hand is swollen and tender. There is no one to catch him when he falls to the floor clutching his injured hand, no one to soothe him when he falls asleep there curled tightly into a ball.  
  
~  
  
A week later, Jongin hasn't eaten or slept or done much of anything except stare at the wall next to his bed, unable to move. He's lost his job by now, probably, but he can't bring himself to answer Sehun's calls. The hours get mixed up and he doesn't know how many days it's been since he lost Kyungsoo, but he wakes up at some point and bursts into panicked wailing at the sight of a name scripted in large, elegant letters running up the entire length of the top of his left thigh.  
  
Panicking, Jongin scrambles into the shower, crying hysterically because he doesn't know what to do. It is not Kyungsoo's name on his leg, but the name of a stranger, and Jongin thinks ferociously that he doesn't want the touch of a stranger, or the love of a stranger. He wants Kyungsoo. It was supposed to be Kyungsoo. 

Jongin tries to die that night and doesn't do anything dramatic to let anyone know, because who would care? He doesn't know the face attached to the name on his leg. Somehow, someone seems to know, though, and Tao knocks on his door before he can unscrew the bottle of vodka he'd bought two weeks ago. The pills are like weights in his stomach, making his whole body slow and heavy and he sluggishly opens the door, his eyes sore and red and his pink hair sticking up in every direction. He barely recognizes Wufan, Wonshik and Hongbin and someone he doesn't know all standing behind Tao with shocked, disturbed expressions. 

"Jesus christ," Tao breathes as Jongin stumbles back, blinking stupidly, the vodka still clutched in his hand.

"Nope," Jongin says smartly, popping the "p" and swooning dangerously. "jus' plain ol' me."

He hits the wall and Tao panics, calling for Wufan and Wonshik to come inside and help him haul Jongin upright. Hongbin and the boy he doesn't know hover uncertainly in the doorway, watching uncertainly as the stronger men fight to keep Jongin conscious.

"I swear to God, Kim fucking Jongin, you useless prick, if you fucking die on me tonight--" Tao hisses, slapping his cheeks to keep him from falling asleep.

"Gentle, Tao, don't hurt him," Wufan chides, and Tao glares at his soulmate with such fire that Wonshik draws back like he's been burned. Wufan seems unphased.

"You are so, SO lucky," Tao hisses through clenched teeth, "that Taemin called me, and that I like your dick, because otherwise, I would kill you."

"The ambulance is coming." Hongbin says quietly, tucking his phone into his pocket. "They don't need more than one person to care for, Tao." 

Wufan just chuckles. Jongin can't think straight, can't hear straight. They have him pressed against the wall, Wonshik bracing his waist, Wufan grabbing his shoulders, Tao flitting like a worried hen around them.

Jongin is going in and out of consciousness, slurring answers to what he thinks are Kyungsoo's questions in addition to responses to Tao's insults. He can't tell how long it's been and he can't tell if he's the one crying or if it's Tao. He doesn't like the feeling of other hands on his body but he also can't stand up on his own. He tries to reason with Tao because it's the only thing he can think to do--he tries to say that he's fine, it's all fine, don't worry, who even called you?

He gets his answer from a sharp jerk of Tao's head towards his door. Jongin's skull rolls to the left and somehow his eyes land on Taemin in the corner, lilac hair falling around his brown eyes, leaning against the wall looking tragically beautiful in ripped up black skinny jeans and a pair of white doc martens.

Taemin glances away from Hongbin and looks over at him and gravity hits him all at once. His breath is gone and his heart's in overdrive and his whole body claws desperately at him screaming "yes" while his brain chants an agonized, "No." His left thigh feels warm. 

Maybe it's because he's overwhelmed. Maybe it's because he's taken almost a whole bottle of anxiety medication, or maybe because he has always been dramatic; but Jongin manages to fall towards Taemin, his arm outstretched but his fingers curled into a fist. He's unconscious before he hits the ground, and Taemin is pressed against the wall breathing hard, his eyes wide.

"Oh, fuck, it really is him." is all he manages to say. He rubs the heel of his right palm across his left wrist where the name "Jongin" is written in neat block lettering.


	2. The Way (II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! 
> 
> So I FINALLY finished chapter two and chapter three is on its merry way, but I have no clue when it's going to be finished so please bear with me! <3 
> 
> For those of you who have waited and took the time to comment on this, THANK YOU SO MUCH I WANT TO GIVE YOU ALL OF THE SMOOCHES, YOU PRECIOUS BABIES <333 
> 
> This piece remains dedicated to my dearest Sinistrocular, without whom i would be totally lost. I know this is a heavy chapter, but keep your spirits up, everyone!

Loving Chanyeol is easy.

 

He's like an oversized dog-always so eager to please, always so blindingly positive that Kyungsoo sometimes openly scoffs at him. He's not like Jongin, and Kyungsoo really wants to resent him for it. He tries yelling at Chanyeol a few times in the years they spend together but it never ends up working out in his favor because Chanyeol looks so wounded by his rage that he almost immediately relents. Kyungsoo loves Chanyeol because he's easy to love, but he always holds part of himself back because no matter how tender Chanyeol is when they kiss, when they make love, he will never be Jongin.

 

It doesn't go unnoticed by Chanyeol, either. He watches the pain twist Kyungsoo’s smiling face when he accidentally bumps into Hongbin on the way back from the bar. The conversation is polite, quick--Hongbin is a school teacher now, Wonshik works as a music producer at the same studio Taemin records at--they come over every saturday for drinks--They should be here soon, Jongin would love to see you, I’m sure, Hongbin says sweetly, and Kyungsoo looks as if he’s been stabbed in the gut. Chanyeol overhears it all and feels the hot prick of jealousy and horror in Kyungsoo’s heart when he learns of Jongin’s imminent arrival...with his soulmate in tow.

 

In record time, Kyungsoo appears pale-faced and trembling at Chanyeol’s side. "Please, I don't feel well. I wanna go home, Yeol."

 

Chanyeol looks at him with hard eyes, the coldest expression Kyungsoo has ever seen on him. He’s clutching his drink in one hand and the other is shoved deep in his pocket-he’s knee-deep in conversation with Baekhyun, finally enjoying himself because Chanyeol is a social creature and thrives on attention and social interaction (unlike Kyungsoo). He doesn’t believe Kyungsoo's lie, not even a little bit.

 

"Fine." Chanyeol answers flatly, and around the knot of anxiety in his stomach Kyungsoo feels the sour burn of guilt. Chanyeol excuses himself from his friends, all of whom look desperate to keep him there. He begs off and says, "Maybe next weekend."

 

"That's what you said last weekend." Baekhyun says drily, and Kyungsoo feels like crying when he sees Chanyeol's small, bitter smile in reply.

~

 

They're in the car and Kyungsoo is pressed against the passenger's door because the anger rolling off of Chanyeol's shoulders is practically palpable.

 

"I'm sorry I'm not Jongin." He suddenly spits, and Kyungsoo feels himself flinch.

 

"Don't. Please don't do this, not now."

 

Kyungsoo thinks maybe telling Chanyeol about Jongin had been a mistake, but he also thinks that hiding such a huge part of himself would have been even more disastrous than being honest about it.  

 

"No, really, what better time than now? We do everything according to what suits you, Kyungsoo, so for once, _for once,_ we're gonna have a conversation on my terms."  

 

Kyungsoo spits out a swear as Chanyeol whips the car into the driveway and slams it into park with way more force than he needs to. He met Chanyeol three years ago and he's never seen him so furious, not even when Kyungsoo took an entire week off to recover after he saw Jongin and some tall, impossibly beautiful person holding hands at the grocery store. Chanyeol steps out of the car and slams the door, walking purposefully up to their front door while Kyungsoo tries to melt into the seat of the car.

 

He doesn't want to have this conversation, he really doesn't. But Chanyeol is right-everything that happens, happens at Kyungsoo's pace. It's not fair and they both feel the weight of Kyungsoo's reluctance grow heavier with the days that pass. Soulmates are supposed to be in love, supposed to be happy together--they're meant to be together. But Kyungsoo is holding back, and it's pulling them apart.  

The worst part is that he can't bring himself to regret it-he wouldn't take back any time he's spent loving Jongin, not a single moment.

 

He reluctantly gets out of the car, his eyes already wet with unshed tears. His heart feels like it’s been bruised, and every beat reminds him of just how tender he is, how sore he feels because loving Chanyeol is easy--but being in love with Chanyeol is not.

 

~

 

It's alright for the first year-Kyungsoo feels grounded by Chanyeol, like Chanyeol is the force that holds him to the earth. Kyungsoo loves Chanyeol's ears, loves teasing him about them and watching Chanyeol sulk until he kisses away his pout. Loving Chanyeol is easy-it's natural, the bonding of their souls creating a sixth sense for each other's emotions. They feel things in tandem, they move around each other like the earth and the sun, and Kyungsoo grudgingly admits that maybe, just maybe, things happened like this for a reason.

 

It’s not until later that Kyungsoo realizes he still feels something is missing. Chanyeol keeps him on the earth but their relationship lacks color; he misses the way Jongin made him laugh, the way Jongin knew to grab for his hand during a scary movie because he hates being scared more than anything. He misses pressing his hands into Jongin's thighs, the taste of his mouth after a long day, the way his cheeks turn the same color as his favorite rose wine when he’s been drinking.

 

There are things Chanyeol does that Jongin doesn’t. Like pick up his towel off the bathroom floor, or put the cap back on the tube of toothpaste before leaving the house. Likewise, there are things Jongin knows that Kyungsoo can't ever make Chanyeol understand; that he likes to switch and sometimes he doesn't want to be treated like a precious jewel, that he wants to fuck hard and dirty and put his partner down in his proper place. Chanyeol can't understand that because Chanyeol waited for Kyungsoo, has never tasted another person's skin or felt them come undone beside him. Kyungsoo's name had been inscribed on his skin at the tender age of sixteen, when Kyungsoo had been rolling around in the sheets with Jongin. Kyungsoo remembers hearing that and stiffening immediately. Across from him, Chanyeol squints his eyes, confused at the rush of anxiety and guilt he can feel coming from Kyungsoo.

 

That's when he tells Chanyeol about Jongin, right at the start so the air is clear and Chanyeol is taken aback, a little shocked, but he doesn't think less of Kyungsoo. At least not yet. He reaches out across the table and takes Kyungsoo's hand, says with a bright smile that it’s okay-he understood that everyone was different, but they are meant to be together so it will work out in the end.

 

That's what Kyungsoo is thinking about when he walks through the front door and sees Chanyeol standing in the kitchen sobbing with a bottle of liquor in his hand.

 

"I'm sorry I'm not him," he says bitterly, and Kyungsoo feels the lump in his throat grow. "I'm sorry I'm not beautiful like him, that I can't dance like he does, that I interrupted your relationship."

 

Chanyeol is drunk, Kyungsoo repeats to himself. He is drunk and he probably won't remember this in the morning.

"I never asked for this." He continues, and Kyungsoo's head snaps up to look at him warningly. "I never fucking asked for this, Kyungsoo, all I ever wanted was just to love you. Why can't you just let him go? Am I that repulsive?"

 

Kyungsoo feels his eyes get wide and he feels Chanyeol's distress in his very bones.

 

"Yeol, please calm down," he says gently, moving towards him with his hands outstretched, and Chanyeol takes another too-large swallow of whatever is in that bottle and shrieks, "No!"

 

Kyungsoo freezes, for the first time uncertain about how to respond to his soulmate. Chanyeol, to his surprise, laughs bitterly.

 

"You look panicked. Do you know why you don't know how to comfort me?" He says, and his voice is hard and rough. He shouldn't drink so much, Kyungsoo thinks, because he has a performance tomorrow and the alcohol will hurt his head by the morning. "It's because I feel more than you. Because this bond isn't equal," Chanyeol continues, and Kyungsoo feels a trickle of Chanyeol's triumph through his own horror.

 

"Because you don't love me as much as I love you. I feel more of you, my whole world is you, and _you don't love me back."_

 

Kyungsoo thinks he's going to be sick, absolutely sick right here on the kitchen floor he'd just scrubbed clean yesterday. He looks at Chanyeol with absolute panic in his eyes, his mouth agape and his palms sweating. Chanyeol laughs again, manic and unrestrained. Kyungsoo realizes he is crying, and hasn't denied what Chanyeol is saying yet. His tender heart feels so abused that it's been reduced to pulp in his chest. He's sure that's why it aches with every pathetic little beat.

 

Kyungsoo draws a breath to speak, but Chanyeol shakes his head, walking unsteadily nearer. Kyungsoo stands his ground, his brows furrowed in concern. Chanyeol puts the bottle down heavily on the counter and cups his soulmate's face gently with both his large hands. He thinks Chanyeol is going to kiss him, but he stops a few inches shy of his lips. He tries not to fidget as Chanyeol shamelessly stares at him like he's seeing through him, seeing him for the first time. The bond between them aches and it makes his stomach twinge.

"You will literally never know," Chanyeol says hollowly. He sounds remarkably sober. "You can never understand how much it hurts to love someone with all of your soul, to have waited so long to meet them, to love them so completely, and be so _bitterly_ disappointed by them."

 

Kyungsoo swallows around the lump in his throat, closing his eyes to savor the pain that shoots through his chest and into his shoes because he deserves this, he really does, he never should have let himself love Jongin and he sure as hell didn't deserve a mate as genuine and sweet as Chanyeol. The letters beneath his collarbone feel like they are on fire and all he can feel from Chanyeol is cocktail of bitterness, sadness, and despair. He tries to make himself numb so that Chanyeol can't feel his hurt.

 

"I'm sorry I'll never be him. I'm sorry I'm not enough. I'm not mad though, I just..." Chanyeol picks the bottle up off the counter, presses it into Kyungsoo's reluctant hands, and whispers, "You're gonna want this. It'll make it hurt less, I promise."

 

He draws a shuddery breath and Kyungsoo looks up at him through his tears and thinks that he is the worst person on this planet because he made Park Chanyeol cry, broke his heart, ruined his entire life, probably. Chanyeol wipes his eyes on the backs of his hand and neatly steps around Kyungsoo without touching him and the name under Kyungsoo’s collarbone hurts so badly he physically flinches.

 

"I'll call you, I guess." Chanyeol mutters.

 

Kyungsoo should stop him because Chanyeol is in no state to drive. He doesn't though; he lifts the bottle to inspect the label, noting that it is imported and he can't read anything because it's in a language he doesn't understand. He doesn't smell it before he brings the bottle to his lips and successfully swallows two mouthfuls before the taste catches up to him-he gags, coughing because his throat burns now, too. He doesn't want to think about what just happened because it's too complicated and it makes his head spin-or maybe that's the gasoline he just drank. Or was it alcohol? He can't tell anymore, and if he could he wouldn't want to anyways.

 

Wobbling unsteadily over to the kitchen table, Kyungsoo sits delicately down in his chair, staring at the empty seat across from his. His whole body is shaking, Chanyeol's name still hot on his skin in a way that is entirely unpleasant. It's tolerable now, though, because he's starting to feel drunk-very drunk, in fact, and takes another few gulps. He wonders if Chanyeol's mark feels the same--if Chanyeol will even come back. Kyungsoo misses him-his sunny smile and his stupid ears and his overgrown limbs. But he drops his head into his hands and lets silent sobs shake his shoulders because as much as he loves Chanyeol, the only person he wants to call is Jongin.

 

Kyungsoo drunkenly dials his number three times, but never hits send. He falls asleep at the kitchen table, cheek resting against his tear-dampened forearms. He doesn't remember writing the note he finds when he wakes up the next morning. He squints down at it, stiff from sleeping in the chair all night and realizes the pounding he’s hearing is actually coming from the front door, not just the inside of his skull.

 

_It's not supposed to be this way._ Kyungsoo blinks down at the note and swallows the freshest wave of misery rising in his mouth. He struggles to his feet, stumbling over to the door with his heart in his throat. There are no words to describe his disappointment when it’s Jongdae waiting when he opens the door.

 

“Chanyeol asked me to come get his things.” He says, and his tone is a little apologetic. Kyungsoo vaguely remembers being told that when a marriage dissolves, neither party gets to keep all their friends. He wonders if Jongdae hates him. Behind him, Jongdae's soulmate shifts awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes trained on the ground.

 

“Oh.” Kyungsoo says weakly, and steps aside without another word. He offers to help pack things up, but Jongdae smiles at him and waves him away. Taekwoon doesn't say a word. Kyungsoo is positive Taekwoon hates him. 

 

“You look like shit,” Jongdae laughs, and Kyungsoo can hear the sympathy in his voice again. “You should get some rest.”

 

With his soulmate’s help, Jongdae is quick to pack up most of Chanyeol’s clothes and his essentials-laptop, charger, watch, ipod, toothbrush. Kyungsoo watches it all walk out the door in a box that Taekwoon carries like it weighs nothing at all. Jongdae pats Kyungsoo on the shoulder and leaves without saying a word, planting a kiss on Taekwoon’s forehead before they slide into the car and disappear down the street.

 

Kyungsoo, who has already called out of work, spends the day alone crying into Chanyeol's pillow with Jongin’s number written into the backs of his eyelids.


End file.
